Disney, Awkwardness and Improvisation
by weonlyliveoncesometimes
Summary: Felicity discovers that there's possibly more to Oliver Queen, billionaire, Island survivor, guy who looks good in green leather, than she first thought. She also discovers he likes feeding her and that she really needs to learn the life lesson that improvisation is definitely not her thing. Sequel to Four Times, Processing and Bad Lying and Kissing Bans!


Okay, so I'm kind of excited about where this is going. I was before but now, I've realized something.

There's a period of six weeks where we don't know what happens to Oliver. So, guess what? I'm playing around with those six weeks and because, as I've said before, this is AU in canon, I can actually progress the Oliver/Felicity relationship.

But, here's the thing, this might seem like a bit of a nothing installment. That's sort of intentional - and by sort of, I mean it was intentional. Just because Felicity at this point doesn't actually know Oliver; not well, anyway and I wanted to actually give them a chance to get to know each other. The problem with that idea was that it could have gone on forever but I try and keep these to between 4000 - 5000 words. So, I've done it in a particular way that I hope you'll appreciate.

Anyway, explanations aside, I hope you all do enjoy this and keep in mind, this is in the six weeks where there's no Hood activity. So she's not going to see the Hood, it's just Oliver.

As always, too, if you haven't read the previous works to this, I do strongly recommend that because this is a direct follow on from _Four Times, Of Processing and Bad Lying _and _Kissing Ban_s.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Disney, Awkwardness and Improvisation (or Felicity gets to know Oliver)**_

It's awkward.

Felicity is standing in the middle of her apartment and is having severe flashbacks to high school and the first time she'd ever had a boy over.

The flashbacks, however, are not as awkward as what's happening in her apartment.

Which is amazing because her flashback involves her mother and how helpful she'd been in turning an awkward teenage thing into one of the most excruciatingly awkward episodes of her life.

That, however, does not hold a candle to right now.

So, really, Felicity's pretty sure she's flashing back to that particular adolescent trauma to emphasize how excruciating it is in her apartment _now._

Which is not at all helpful.

But what else is she supposed to do?

Oliver Queen is sitting on her blood stained couch, looking wrecked and not saying a word.

Felicity's sure he's been sitting there for a good twenty minutes since his announcement that Walter Steele was missing and for the last nineteen of those minutes, she's been tempted to wave a hand in front of his face to see if he'd blink.

She hasn't.

Mostly because she's not entirely sure what he'd do if she did.

But she has to do _something_.

Because this is awkward and Felicity _hates_ awkward.

She especially hates awkward with a guy who's pretty much assaulted her with his tongue every chance he's been able too.

Felicity pulls a face. That thought made it sound much worse than the reality of his tongue assaults had been.

She's pretty sure it's because of the word 'tongue'.

Felicity wrinkles her nose, maybe she won't think about tongues anymore.

She's finding it a little gross.

Shaking her head a little, Felicity is also pretty sure she's saying none of this aloud because Felicity is certain that if she did, the words excruciatingly awkward wouldn't cover the situation.

That is, if Oliver actually reacted to anything she said.

She wonders what he'd do if she shouted 'boo'.

Somehow, Felicity is sure that it would end badly for her.

She really needs to get out of her own head. So, taking a deep breath, Felicity racks her brain for something to say and comes up pretty much empty. She decides to improvise.

Because everything about her life has told her _that's _a bad idea.

After all, she seems to improvise a lot around Oliver.

"So, Oliver," Felicity starts and is surprised when he looks at her. She then promptly loses any idea of what to say. "Would you like some mint chip?"

Oh, God. She's _never_ improvising again. This was a terrible idea. She should have just stayed silent, standing in the middle of her apartment and flashing back to awkward anecdotes of her teenage-hood.

This guy is going to think she has a complex or something about him and mint chip ice cream because she talks about it with him _all the time._

"Seriously?" Oliver asks and Felicity can't quite figure out if he's annoyed, incredulous or amused.

She thinks there's maybe something wrong with the fact that she can read him better when she can't see his face.

Deciding she probably can't make it worse – which she probably can but she'll never learn that particular life less – Felicity wrings her hands together and steps closer to him.

"Well, sure. If I've had a crappy night or day or found out something really horrible I generally turn off my phone, open a new carton and watch _The Avengers_ because there's nothing that Tom Hiddleston and Robert Downey Jr. can't fix." She tells him, then frowns. "Actually, that's not true. If it's been a really, _really_ crappy day, the best thing to watch is Disney. It's my go to happy genre. Except for _The Lion King_ because, sometimes, Timone and Pumba don't make up for Mufasa." Felicity is blanching even as she's finishing her sentence.

Because _what_ is with her insistence to remind this man that his father died?

She can even work it into a conversation about Disney movies.

For a second, Felicity wonders if she's actually gone too far with Oliver. Not that she knows what too far is with him because, well, she doesn't really _know_ him, does she?

Well, actually, she knows one part of him.

The part sitting in front of her, apparently thinking deeply about what she's said; is a mystery to her.

Felicity is kind of curious about this mysterious part.

"So, if you have a bad day you eat ice cream and watch animated films?" He asks, as if he can't quite believe he's voicing the question.

Felicity shrugs. "Yep. It's simple. I discovered that bad days are usually complicated because, well, life's complicated. So why not un-complicate it with sugar and Disney? At least, for a little while. The bad is still going to be there but you'll feel better about it after ice cream and Olaf. "

Oliver looks like he's been hit.

Felicity is going to say more except, well, she looks like she's hit a nerve with Oliver. A pretty big, very raw never that she hadn't even know was there. Unexpectedly, Felicity feels a wave of tenderness for him.

Because, sitting on the couch he's already bled over, he looks confused and angry and just a little bit lost and Felicity thinks that whatever has happened to this man sitting in front of her, it's been one endless bad day.

So, for once, she stays quiet and goes to her kitchen, pulling the carton of mint chip he'd bought her from the freezer and grabbing two spoons from the drying rack next to her sink.

Heading back out to the living room, Felicity offers him a spoon and then sitting next to Oliver, close but not close enough to touch; she turns on _Lilo & Stitch_.

Mostly because she doesn't think Oliver would take kindly to _The Adventures of Robin Hood_.

Because a little blue alien bent on destruction is a much better choice.

Glancing at Oliver, as discreetly as she can, Felicity is surprised to see he's watching the movie. Quite intently, actually, and Felicity wonders if it's because he's actually interested in the movie or he doesn't want her to ask any questions.

Either way, Felicity gets to watch a Disney movie.

It may be awkward, but it works for her.

* * *

Felicity will be honest.

After the very awkward Christmas Eve when she watched a Disney movie with Oliver Queen, she was pretty sure she wasn't going to see Oliver again.

She'd woken up on her couch on Christmas morning, under the blanket she'd used to cover his bloodstains and with no sign that Oliver had ever been in her apartment.

The second time, anyway.

So she'd drawn the very safe conclusion that she'd probably never see him again.

The problem, though, was that she might not have thought she was going to see Oliver but she _did_ think she was going to receive a visit from the Hood.

As it stands, however, she has not seen the Hood since she'd informed him that they were on a kissing ban. In fact, she's not the only one who hasn't seen the Hood since around that time. The Hood has taken a leave of absence from the city since before Christmas.

In no way does Felicity think it has to do with the kissing ban.

Still, now Felicity's really curious.

Because, quite obviously, whatever it was that had driven Oliver to her door, looking as wrecked as he did on Christmas Eve was a lot bigger than just his stepfather going missing.

Not because Walter disappearing wasn't something that would have affected Oliver badly but because…well, she's pretty sure that there has to be a lot more to it because for the Hood to go missing is kind of a big deal.

He's pretty tough after all.

Felicity knows this because she's seen his toughness up close and personal.

So, she knows these things.

Well, at least she likes to think she knows these things.

But really, how much can she know? Her solution to Oliver looking wrecked was to improvise and then put on a Disney movie.

Which she's sure would have been the most appropriate course of action for anyone _but _Oliver Queen, billionaire, survivor and leather connoisseur.

Oliver Queen, the green vigilante.

Felicity scrunches up her nose; maybe she won't call him that. It kind of makes him sound like Kermit the Frog instead of the menacing force he actually is.

Though it would be funny to see Oliver singing its not easy being green.

Maybe she should have put on the _Muppets_ instead.

"Felicity?"

Felicity jerks at the sound of her name, sending the office chair she's sitting in flying back and managing to bash her knee on the edge of her desk. How, she doesn't know.

She does know it's going to bruise and that it _hurts_.

"What the – _Oliver?_" She spins around, clutching her knee to see Oliver Queen standing there holding a bag of what appears to be take-out. "What are you doing here? Scaring the life out of me? Which you do a lot! And why do you have food?"

Oliver looks as if he doesn't know which question to answer first. In fact, he just looks awkward standing there, holding the bag and staring at her legs.

Well, her knee. That he can't really see because she's clutching it and it's actually making it worse.

"Let me look at your knee."

Apparently, he's going for ignoring all questions and Felicity lets go of her leg, so that he can see what she knows is just going to be a large, horrible looking bruise.

She then reconsiders this idea.

Because Oliver Queen touching her leg seems like a very, very, _very_ bad idea.

Not because she doesn't want him to touch her leg but because, well, Felicity doesn't know what she'll do if he does.

Moan, maybe. Say something mortifying, more likely. Completely embarrass herself, in any case.

"It's okay!" She yelps before he does anything more than bend his knees slightly. "It's just a bruise. What are you doing here? You know, besides the fact that you own the company. Sort of."

Oliver looks perplexed at, well, Felicity thinks it's the situation but maybe it's just her and then, she watches something dawn on him.

Felicity can see, quite clearly, that Oliver knows exactly why she doesn't want him touching her and she can also see that he's feeling quite smug about it.

And why wouldn't he? The damn man has to have some idea of how she reacts to him.

"I bought you some lunch." He says with only a hint of a smile. "I thought maybe we could have lunch and…get to know each other."

Felicity eyes him suspiciously. "Is this another bribe? 'Cause, I gotta tell you, your bribes suck."

"No bribe. I just figured it might be nice if you and I knew each other." Oliver looks like he's reconsidering his idea and Felicity is wondering if maybe that's a good thing.

Maybe, right now, she could tell him that she won't tell on him and that maybe he should just leave her alone.

What is she? Five? Tell on him? Seriously?

It's not going to happen, in any case. Because…because she's curious about Oliver and, well, she's curious about the Hood and Oliver _is_ the Hood so, she's not going to tell on him or tell him to go away.

She's also attracted to both of them.

So, there's that.

"Okay. What'd you bring?" She asks and if she thought someone like Oliver Queen could visibly react; she imagines his shoulders would be sagging right now.

His shoulders don't sag but he does smile, only a little though.

Felicity is pretty sure an entire smile may kill him.

Staring at him, Felicity finds that she really likes Oliver's suggestion that they get to know each other. Not just because she's curious.

But because she thinks that maybe, just maybe, she might like Oliver Queen.

Green leather and all.

* * *

Oliver turns out to be pretty good company.

Mostly because they actually start having conversations where she's not propelled by some nervous brain function to dominate it with innuendo, long rambles and no filter.

He shows up with lunch, a lot and they sit in her little cubicle and talk.

Well, she talks, he listens and asks questions and it's more of a conversation than she's ever really had with him.

Both versions of him that she knows, anyway.

Oliver doesn't say a lot about his missing five years. Well, really, he doesn't say anything about those five years or what his night job is and maybe, just maybe, his laugh is a little rusty but Felicity finds her hunch is correct.

She likes him.

His sense of humor may be a little non-existent but she knows it's dry; he doesn't really have the patience for sitting in front a television for long periods of time and has no interest in ever seeing _Game of Thrones_ and his phone is from the 1800s and all of that should be massive strikes against him. Yet, she likes him.

It's horrible.

Felicity didn't actually expect to _like_ the guy under the Hood.

Just because, well, her life was complicated before she liked him but now? Complicated doesn't even cover it.

She _likes_ him and she's attracted to him and she knows he's a good kisser and, well, she's screwed, really.

Felicity wrinkles her nose as she folds her laundry; she wonders why people put such stock into romance and liking someone.

It, apparently, ends with you liking someone who has clearly got a healthy amount of baggage excluding being trapped on an island for years.

An experience he doesn't talk about, so of course, the more she gets to know Oliver, the more Felicity finds herself beginning to speculate about the Island.

She can't decide whether his experience was more Tarzan or Tom Hanks.

She thinks maybe Tom Hanks because he didn't come back with an ability to communicate with gorillas.

That she knows of, anyway.

But he also doesn't have an unhealthy attachment to an inanimate object _and_ he's an expert at archery.

Maybe it was the Island was a time portal and he'd gone back in time to learn archery from Robin Hood.

That'd explain the vigilantism as well.

Maybe, too, he'd created a whole new persona and had his own Maid Marian pining for him because he'd disappeared unexpectedly and that was a big part of why he wouldn't talk about it.

Actually, no, there would be no Maid Marian because, as evidenced by a sudden, weird pressure in her chest, Felicity doesn't want to think about him with someone else.

Which is a terrible sign.

So, no Main Marian. He just doesn't talk about it because of the time travel.

Hearing a knock on her door, Felicity walks over to open it, still considering the Robin Hood angle.

Maybe he became Robin's right hand man, just as skilled with the bow and arrow as his mentor.

Swinging the door open, Felicity blinks up at Oliver. She's sort of surprised that he's standing in her doorway, again.

She's also a bit confused.

"Um. Hi?" She says and than spies the food in his hand. "Do you think I don't eat enough or something?"

Oliver shrugs. "Hello. No. Can I come in?"

Another think about Oliver, everything he says is almost always to the point and he never looks perturbed by anything she says.

Perplexed, amused and slightly lost, sometimes, sure. Perturbed, not so much.

"Sure." Stepping back, Felicity lets him in and shutting the door, she announces. "I have a theory."

Oliver, who's on his way to the kitchen, glances back at her and quirks an eyebrow. It's about as much encouragement as she's going to get from him.

He's not big on unnecessary words.

Which means it's kind of funny that he hangs out with her because she's an expert on unnecessary words.

"I think the island was a time portal and that Robin Hood trained you in archery. Which is why you're so good at it and why you're a vigilante as well. But there was no Maid Marian equivalent."

Oliver freezes.

Felicity thinks maybe she should have thought about this more before telling him her theory.

Actually, she probably should have thought about this more because she was bringing up the Island.

Something he _doesn't_ talk about.

Too late now, though.

Because Oliver looks like he wants to flee and Felicity thinks that maybe she shouldn't have said anything at all.

Well, she could have said something but it could have not been about the island and theories pertaining to the Island. She could have simply talked about the weather and controlled herself.

But when has _that_ worked around him?

In a strained voice, Oliver asks. "Why were you thinking about the island?"

Felicity shrugs. "Well, it's a big deal for you, isn't it? I mean, living on an island for five years sort of says 'hey, issues and baggage, move over. I have trauma.' And well, I know…_things_ about you that weren't things before the Island time portal, so clearly a big deal. Oh! And you haven't mentioned it, so I was thinking about it. I think about weird things. I think it's because I watch too much television."

Oliver looks startled, like he wants to run and maybe a little bit amused as she answers his question.

Felicity is pretty sure it's because of her hands. She has no control over them right now, so they're doing their own thing while she talks.

It could also be because she's talking about the island like it wasn't that big a deal. Because, really, big deals don't just become time portals in her head.

Most of the time, anyway.

"Felicity – " He starts.

"You don't have to talk about it! That's not what I was getting at. I just…well, I had to make up _something_. With you being all mysterious and _things_." Felicity rushes to add because, well, it's true.

He doesn't have to talk about it.

In all seriousness, Felicity knows that something happened to him in those five years and she knows that it was traumatic and that he doesn't talk about it for a lot of reasons. She's okay with that, sort of.

She still wants to know what made him the vigilante but if he doesn't want to talk about it, than he doesn't have to.

Felicity is hoping that he'll tell her something one day.

"No. It's not that." Oliver starts and then pauses. He looks so torn and so…tortured that Felicity instinctively moves closer to him, her hand rising to touch his arm.

His arm is seriously solid and it's kind of quivering a bit and Felicity wonders if it's taking all of Oliver's will to stay standing where he is.

For some reason, she thinks that maybe he's not going to say anything.

Felicity is already trying to think of something to say to take the pressure off him. She thinks maybe she should improvise. It took his mind off whatever it was last time.

Maybe she should suggest another Disney movie.

"Felicity." He says hoarsely and she startles. "None of it was good. There was nothing good about those five years."

It's honest.

Oliver is being honest about something he clearly doesn't want to talk about and she can see him struggling with something that's just below the surface.

Watching him, Felicity feels that wave of tenderness again except bigger and more potent than when Oliver was simply a man sitting on her couch after his stepfather had gone missing.

She's pretty sure it's because she _knows_ Oliver, now.

Sliding her hand down his arm, Felicity catches his hand and holds it tightly. She rethinks it slightly when Oliver begins to cut of circulation but decides to wait it out.

It's the least she can do.

Besides, some part of Felicity is reacting to the calluses on his hands and the reminder that this man has had his hands on her body.

Felicity is really going to have to do something about her thoughts about Oliver.

They just seem to jump back to kissing and…other things whenever he's around.

Shaking her head slightly, Felicity rubs her thumb over his knuckles and then speaks.

"So, want to watch _Tangled_? You can learn how to use frying pans properly."

Oliver looks down at her and Felicity can see whatever it was that was below the surface, receding slightly and he gives a short nod.

He doesn't let go of her hand though.

Felicity decides she'll squeal about that later.

* * *

She's starving.

It's lunchtime and Oliver is nowhere to be seen and she's _starving_. Apparently, lunching with Oliver Queen every day has meant she's forgotten how to forage herself.

Which is slightly embarrassing because she was a strong, independent woman who could buy her own lunch a few weeks ago.

Now, she's starving because Oliver hasn't shown up with lunch.

Stupid billionaire.

Felicity would think he was avoiding her because she'd made him talk about something he didn't want to except, well, that was three days ago and she's had lunch with him all those days.

So clearly, he's not avoiding her.

But she's still hungry.

He should know this and feel guilty, she decides.

It's his fault that she's hungry and has forgotten how to forage for herself, so he can know her displeasure.

Sending him a message before she second-guesses herself, Felicity drops her phone back onto her desk and leans back in her chair.

Oliver is not who she expected.

It's something she's been turning over and over in her head to explain what's happening. Because, quite frankly, she doesn't know what's happening.

What she does know is that Oliver isn't who she expected and she's pretty sure she's developing some sort of…_feelings_ for him.

Serious feelings, too.

This isn't just some weird reaction to him being the vigilante or anything; she actually has feelings for him.

Which is just bizarre because Oliver is _not_ someone she'd ever expect to have feelings for.

Seriously. The last guy she was even remotely interested in wore glasses and, well, he would have collapsed under the strain of trying to lift her off the ground. _Before_ her feet had even left the ground.

He most certainly would have been too out of breath to kiss her, after his attempt, too.

He'd been nice though, and he most certainly had never been trapped anywhere near an island.

He'd suffered from seasickness.

So, Felicity is trying to figure out how she's gone from someone who was basically the male version of her to, well, Oliver Queen.

There's absolutely no connection and she's pretty sure she feels more now for Oliver than she'd ever felt for her ex.

This is not good.

Felicity isn't entirely sure she wants to feel _anything_ for Oliver.

Beyond mind-numbing lust, of course.

That she's quite happy to feel. Well, she was. Up until she decided he had problems. That included her and his interest in kissing her.

And now she _likes _him.

Oh, God.

This is going to end so badly. She can feel it.

"Miss Smoak?" A voice asks and Felicity glances up.

"Mr Diggle? What are you doing here?" She glances down at the bag he's carrying and winces a little. "Did he send me lunch because I sent him a text? Because I wanted him to feel guilty about starving me and not actually send me food."

Mr. Diggle doesn't give her anything. He simply nods and sets the carrier bag onto her desk, the aroma coming from it telling Felicity that it's Indian. One of her many, many favorite cuisines.

That she just decided is one of her favorites because she's _so hungry_.

"Thank you, Mr. Diggle." She says gravely because he seems to expect something.

Felicity figures she'll go for politeness because it's always appreciated.

"Your welcome, Miss Smoak." He says with a nod. "Mr. Queen says he's sorry and that he'll make it up to you with dinner."

Felicity pauses in opening her lunch and looks at him inquisitively. "O-kay? Did he say when? Or is he just going to show up randomly with food? Because that's what he usually does. Show up randomly. It's a habit of his. I'm sure you find it annoying. Because he must randomly disappear on you to show up randomly with me."

Mr. Diggle appears to not quite know what to say.

Felicity wonders if it's because of her.

This tends to happen a lot.

Instead of musing aloud whether or not she has the ability to inspire speechlessness in a certain type of male, Felicity decides to concentrate on her food. She pulls out the container of Indian and opens it, breathing deeply as her stomach growls at the smell.

"Mr. Queen will pick you up at seven tonight, Miss Smoak. He suggests you dress nicely." Mr. Diggle informs her and Felicity stops doing pretty much everything.

She forgets she has feelings or that she's hungry or that there's a mouthful of rice and curry halfway to her mouth.

She forgets to breath a little too.

Because, what?

Did Oliver Queen really just have his _bodyguard_ ask her out on a date? Is it even a date if he's got his bodyguard doing the asking? Actually, it was more like telling.

Is it even a date if his bodyguard is _telling_ her this?

Did that actually just happen?

Remembering that she has a forkful of curry midway between the container and her mouth, Felicity shoves it in and stares at the implacable Mr. Diggle.

Who doesn't even look that surprised at her lack of response to his information. Why would he? He probably does things like this for Oliver all the time. He probably does all the asking and the requesting and the organizing and…well, crap.

She's just been told she's going on a date with Oliver Queen.

What the _hell_ is she doing?

"Um, well, as lovely as that invitation is, tell Mr. Queen that he can do it himself. His fingers aren't broken and I know he can use that device he refers to as a phone." Felicity tells Mr. Diggle.

Mr. Diggle raises an eyebrow. Felicity actually feels reprimanded. An impressive move for someone who just acted as the proxy to a date request.

"Miss Smoak – "

"Felicity. I'm not eighty and unmarried." She says tightly, and he dips his chin in acknowledgement as she tears off a piece of Naan bread.

"Felicity, can I give you some advice? If we pick you up at seven, you can tell him off for all sorts of things. Red, yellow and _green_ things." He says it gently, as if he's pointing out the obvious and Felicity considers this. "But if you don't feel like telling him off, let him down gently. He's…invested."

He's right.

He also apparently knows both that Oliver is the vigilante and that she knows Oliver is the vigilante.

Hence the warning about letting him down gently but Felicity likes the idea of telling him off better than letting him down gently.

She can actually tell off Oliver for being sucky at bribes and date requests. And being the vigilante and assaulting her with his tongue and…and, she's pretty sure she'll think of a million things between now and seven o'clock.

So she nods, "I'll be there. Thank you, Mr. Diggle."

Mr. Diggle takes out his phone and begins to walk away and Felicity watches him walk away thoughtfully.

So, she's going on a date with Oliver Queen, billionaire vigilante in green.

Huh.

She probably should panic at some point.

* * *

So, who's excited for the date?

I will cautiously raise my hand. :)

Because next installment will be explanations by Oliver - sort of - and Felicity actually start to reflect on possibly getting involved with Oliver and Diggle. Also, hey, a date! Yay!

I will try and not be evil and keep you waiting forever but I can make no promises. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this installment, even if it was sort of a nothing installment. And please, remember, reviews make any authors day, so let me know what you think!


End file.
